


feels scattered, like doves

by soapyconnor



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Amnesia, Angst, Codependency, Kidnapping, M/M, Mind Control, Minor Scott Lang/Hope Van Dyne, Minor Steve Rogers/Sam Wilson, No Endgame Spoilers, Torture, endgame/infinity war never happened, fake marriages, i dont know what else to tag im sorry, slight abusive tendencies, takes place after civil war, tony gets his own set of trigger words
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-15
Updated: 2019-05-15
Packaged: 2020-03-06 01:11:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,930
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18840580
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soapyconnor/pseuds/soapyconnor
Summary: Tony and James Ulmanis enjoy their tiny, Baltic Sea home with their dog, Apollo. They, really, couldn't be happier.They really couldn't.





	feels scattered, like doves

**Author's Note:**

> hi! i really dont know what this is but it bug me until i wrote it. i hope u enjoy it gdkjhfg. i do writing commissions, which you can find on my tumblr page @rboydholbrook.
> 
> this is MAJORLY unbeta'd!

            Tony raised his head, watching boats sail across the Baltic, and the wind gently ruffling the tree branches, his hands shoved beneath the water. Behind him, he heard the rustling of paper, and a loud crunch as their tervuren hound dug its teeth into a bone. Tony’s hands twitched in the water, gripping the handle of a knife, watching as some teenagers stole apples from their tree.

            He forced himself to look away, turning to his husband and letting go of the knife. His husband did not look up from the paper, but gently chastised the tervuren in Latvian when said dog began to chew on his shoe laces. Tony looked down into the water, scrubbing away. “You should take him on a walk.”

            “Take him on a walk and abandon you? I think not. He can wait,” his husband replied, turning the paper. “He needs to learn some manners.” Once again, his husband chastised the dog, a little harsher this time, “Nē, Apollo!”

            He heard Apollo huff, and let out a disgruntled noise. Tony continued to wash the dishes, jumping as he felt arms wrap around his waist, before letting out a moan as his husband gently kissed his throat. “James . . .”

            A hand ran down the front of his shirt, gently cupping Tony through his jeans. “What?” James replied, amused, nipping at the man’s darkened skin. “I just want to hold you close . . . Spend _time_ with you on my day off.”

            Tony leaned back, his eyes falling shut. “We always spend time together . . .”

            James let out a hum, and they remained like that for some time, before he heard Apollo bark. Tony opened his eyes when James pulled away. He turned, frowning, before he let out a sharp sigh when he saw James storming towards the door, where Apollo was barking incessantly. Tony glanced out the window, lips pursing into a thin line. The teenagers were still there, looking towards the house with wide eyes, before they took off running when James began shouting at them.

            Tony approached him, gently putting a hand on his bicep. James turned; his pupils blown wide as he stared Tony down. He grabbed Tony’s shoulders painfully tight, and there were subtle cracking noises, his nails digging painfully into Tony’s shoulders.

            “James?”

            A blink, and Tony exhaled, rolling his shoulders as James began to stroke his arms. They stared at each other, Apollo barking obnoxiously around their feet. A small sigh escaped James’ lips and he leaned forward, placing a soft kiss to Tony’s lips. “I’ll take him on a quick walk. Finish up.”

            James whistled and latched Apollo’s leash onto his collar, before quickly leaving the house. Tony watched them go, before slowly turning back to the sink, paying no attention to the gas beginning to leak from the airducts.

 

 

            James leisurely walked alongside Apollo, holding the dog back whenever they came upon another human being. He reached down, gently carding a hand through the dog’s fur, eyes staring holes into the concrete.

            He remembered the feeling of Tony beneath his hands, of how easily it would have been to keep squeezing him until the man’s bones snapped. A small shudder ran down his spine, and he found himself tugging Apollo off of the beaten path, commanding the dog to sit as he buried his face into his hands.

            The sea air stung James’ lungs, and it took him a moment before he was able to look up at the sight. He and Apollo were the only living creatures on this particular path at the moment, and once again questioned himself for ever doubting Tony.

            _The open air will be good for us_.

            Tony was always too smart for his own good . . .

            James’ head jerked up when he heard someone running along the path, his eyes landing on the figures as Apollo got up and started barking. There were two people, one a woman and the other a man, close to the same height. The woman’s hair was a bright red, and the only thing interesting about the man was his black and purple attire.

            “Apollo—” James called, standing up abruptly as said dog ran towards the two people, barking even louder than before. James’ eyes widened a bit as Apollo snapped at them and open-mouthed growled, and he yanked him back as soon as he was able to trap the leash beneath his foot.

            “Sorry about that,” James apologized immediately in Latvian, trying to get the rowdy dog under control. When the people looked at him with confusion in their eyes, he tried—in English—with, “He’s young. Doesn’t get out much. Can be a little possessive at times. But, really, he means you no harm—” He flinched as Apollo’s jaw snapped at the joggers, and James was forced to murmur, “Most of the time.”

            The joggers blinked at him, and shot each other a glance as he tried to settle Apollo down. It took a moment, before the dog had heeled next to him. The woman spoke, “It’s perfectly all right. Dog’s like that tend to overprotective.”

            James rolled his shoulders, and attempted to relax. He approached them, murmuring at Apollo to _stay_ , and awkwardly held out a hand. His prosthetic glowed in the sun, and for a moment, James wondered if that was the wrong move to make. However, the woman took his hand, and shook it. “James Ulmanis.” The woman had a fairly tight grip. He raised an eyebrow at her. “Military?”

            “Natalia Smirnov,” the woman gave him a sharp nod. Her eyebrows furrowed together, a soft hum escaping her throat. “Pardon?”

            “Your grip. The firmness screams military.”

            “Ah. I used to be,” Natalia replied tersely, before her friend spoke up.

            “Am I chopped liver?” he asked, as he brushed up next to Natalia, gently nudging her. He grinned at James, and a deep weight settled in James’ stomach. “I’m Clark.”

            James arched an eyebrow, but said nothing. “I see. No last name?”

            Clark shrugged. “Don’t feel last names are important.” Clark jerked his head back. “Ya live around here, James?”

            James clenched his teeth, and he heard Apollo let out a growl. This time, he did not shush the dog. “I do.” He whistled to Apollo, and said, “Well, it was nice meeting you. I hope you enjoy the rest of your day.” He took off in a jog down the route, the dog at his heels. He glanced over his shoulder, watching as Natalia hit Clark on the shoulder. He turned around, and kept running.

 

 

            The house was quiet when James returned. He made sure that the two had not followed him, and chocked it up to just be his imagination. Unclipping the leash from Apollo’s collar, he glanced around, wondering where the hell Tony had wandered off to . . .

            The dishes were drying on the rack, and the table had been cleared. Heading into the living room, he found Tony curled up on the couch, a quilt pulled over him, his head resting on his forearm. A book was on the floor, the pages bent and the man’s bookmark lying beneath the coffee table. James let out a soft chuckle and knelt down on the floor, tucking the bookmark inside before placing it on said coffee table. Leaning over, he gently placed a kiss against Tony’s cheek.

            “Hm?” Tony hummed, forcing his eyes open. Tony let out a small yawn, stretching his legs out as he turned to look at James, giving him a sleepy smile. James smiled softly at him, and ran his fingers through Tony’s hair. “You’re back.”

            “Yeah. Sorry it took so long,” James murmured, pressing their foreheads together. “Apollo had quite a bit of energy.”

            Tony touched James’ cheek, gently stroking his beard as he glanced to the corner of the room, where Apollo was sprawled out on his bed. “Good,” Tony yawned, slumping against the couch and tugging the quilt tighter around him.

            James gently stroked Tony’s cheek, looking down at him with a soft smile on his face. He could sit here and look at the man’s face forever. He didn’t think he’d ever grow tired of it . . .

            “Come on.” James gently tugged at Tony’s hair, forcing the man to sit up. Tony let out a yawn, shooting James a playful glare. “Don’t give me that look. We need to go to the market.”

            “Rather not . . .”

            “You’re not going to be saying that when you realize we have no food,” James ran a hand along Tony’s stomach, nuzzling at his throat. “Come on, dear. Sooner we leave, sooner we can come home.”

            “I heard it’s supposed to rain.”

            James raised an eyebrow. “Scared of a little water?”

            “Dunno, depends on which answer allows me to stay home.” The grin sent shivers down James’ spine. James cupped the back of his head, pulling him close and pressing their lips together.

            “Get up, Tony.”

            Tony let out a groan, before he dragged himself to his feet, and stretched. “All right . . . I hate how persuasive you are.” That earned him a roll of the eyes, and Tony headed to the door, grabbing an umbrella. “Get the list off of the counter, will you?”

            A hum escaped James’ throat as he grabbed said item, wrapping an arm around Tony’s waist. Together, they exited the house, only pausing to lock it, before heading down the road.

 

 

            “. . . How does fish sound for dinner?”

            James glanced at Tony, who was peering down at the selection of fish the seller had on ice. Tony turned to James, who only shrugged in return. “Really doesn’t matter to me.” He stepped close, their shoulders brushing together.

            “Oh, come on, you need to help me.”

            A sigh escaped James, and he crossed his arms, the bags rustling at the movement. Their eyes met for a brief moment, before they began to look over the wide array of fish. People came and went, James eyeing what the others had bought to see if it looked any good.

            He dragged his eyes to Tony. “If we get salmon, I can make pasta,” Tony said.

            “But if we get sprats, we will have enough to make multiple meals. The salmon will last us only a day or two.”

            Tony hummed, glancing around the selection before he waved down the seller. A young woman bounced in front of them, and James tilted his head as she asked, “What can I get for ya?”

            James continued to stare the woman down, his eyebrows slowly furrowing together as Tony told her their order. The woman looked familiar, but James had no idea where from. James glanced at the seller, who was chopping up an ice block near the back of his stall. The two looked nothing alike, and yet James heard her call him _father_. He only dragged his gaze away from her when Tony handed him the package, and he gave him a small smile. Tony thanked the woman, before they headed down the stalls.

            “Must you stare?”

            James blinked. “You know I only have eyes for you.”

            “I thought you were going to kill that poor girl. What did she do to you?”

            James did nothing but shrug, adjusting his grip on the bags. He tugged Tony towards a fruit stall, ignoring his husband’s groan. Tony stopped his bemoaning once he saw a box full of strawberries, allowing James to lean back on the balls of his feet and observe their surroundings once more.

            He froze as he saw the woman from earlier. Natalia, he distinctly remembered. She wasn’t looking at him, and she was not with Clark. She was at the seafood stall that they had been at only moments prior, chatting up the young woman from before. James swallowed, clenching his jaw. He felt Tony tug at his jacket, and he turned to him briefly, murmuring something about how plums were _fine_ , before he turned back to where Natalia stood.

            A frown crossed his features, and he clenched his hand. The woman was gone, and for a brief moment, James wondered if he had imagined it all . . .

            “James?” Tony’s voice broke through his fog. “You all right?”

            James gently took Tony’s hand. “Yes. You got everything?” He nuzzled Tony’s throat, trying to ignore the sinking feeling in his gut.

 

 

            James returned home from work; his hands shoved in his pockets. Apollo barked and jumped around him, eagerly, pawing at his chest. James patted the dog’s head and tossed a ball across the house, before he set off to find Tony.

            Tony sat cross-legged on the back porch, a pair of knitting needles in his hands. James sat down across from him, taking his backpack off, stretching. Tony did nothing except offer him a kiss, and went back to his work.

            “Apollo’s been restless lately,” Tony murmured, eyes flicking minutely. “I took him out on a walk, and that did nothing. Perhaps we need to up our time with him.” James picked up a bundle of yarn, and began to wrap it up. His prosthetic worked nimbly, and when James closed his eyes, he could practically _feel_ the yarn running through his fingers.

            “What has he been doing?” James put the yarn down, and then picked up another, gazing out towards the Baltic Sea. Part of him wanted to rent a boat and take Tony out there. To forget about work, and all the things they needed to do before winter came.

            Tony shrugged and adjusted himself on the porch floor. “This morning, after you left, he sat at the back door and just . . . scratched. For three hours. I let him outside, I played with him, I tried to give him treats that would keep him occupied . . . nothing helped. Eventually, he calmed down, but I . . . I’m still not sure what caused this kind of reaction. I didn’t see anyone outside, I wiped everything down about five or six times . . .”

            That set James’ teeth on edge. “I’m sure everything’s fine. Probably a wild animal or something had died beneath our porch. We’ll just continue with the same routine as usual, all right?”

            Tony pressed his lips into a thin line, but nodded anyways. “Can you hand me the yarn next to your foot?” Tony murmured, and thanked him. He leaned back against the wall, and continued to knit. “What do you want to do tonight?”

            “Honestly, I’d love to just curl up with you on the couch.”

            “We do that all the time, love.”

            James shrugged. “And what does that matter?” He meant it as light hearted, as their moments together would _always_ be special, no matter how many times they repeated it. But from the down casted look on Tony’s face, he knew his love took it to heart. “Well . . . if you want to do something tonight, then what do you have in mind?”

            “Could go out on a walk.” James watched Tony’s nimble fingers move. “Could go out to eat . . . Lots of things for us to do.”

            James crossed his legs and stretched, listening to his joints crack. “Restaurants rob you of your hard-earned money.” The porch door was briefly pushed open, and Apollo padded outside, licking the side of Tony’s head before laying horizontally across James’ legs.

            “Sometimes it is nice to have other people do the work for you.”

            James arched an eyebrow. “Since when do you want people to do things for you?” Tony did not respond, and kept up knitting, his eyes traveling past James to the woods. “If you would like, I could cook for you tonight.”

            “You don’t have to do that. You’ve done enough for me,” Tony turned to James, clearly conflicted.

            James reached over, gently stroking his cheek. “It would be my pleasure to do this for you.”

            Neither James, nor Tony, acknowledged the pricks they felt on their forearms.

 

 

            Their shoulders brushed together as they headed down the road towards home, James holding an umbrella over their heads. Tony pulled his jacket tighter around his body, and leaned his head against James’ shoulder, not even blinking when lightning darted across the sky.

            “Tired?” James murmured, switching the handle of the umbrella from his left hand to his right, putting his arm around Tony’s waist.

            “Very.” They stepped into a puddle, and James didn’t even blink as their jeans got soaked. Tony let out a sigh, placing his hands over James’, gently rubbing his thumbs across the back of his hand.

            “The hospital seemed very pleased with your work.”

            “They always are. Never have enough baby blankets. Or hats. Or gloves . . .” Tony rubbed at his eyes, and pressed himself closer. “God, it’s cold. Winter must be coming early.” Tony then blanched when they stepped into the mud, scrunching up his nose when they stepped back onto the sidewalk.

            “You’re doing good work,” James pointed out, “I think I saw a family out the other day with one of your blankets. The red one with blue stars. The kid loved it.”

            “Did they, now?” Tony hummed, closing his eyes. There was a flash of lightning, and the thunder rolled not too long afterwards. “I know I am helping them. Helping many others. But . . . I . . . I can’t help but feel . . .”

            James turned, his eyebrows furrowing together. Tony was chewing on his lip, chewing so hard that it was becoming quite swollen. They stopped at a crosswalk, and Tony scuffed his shoes along the cement, attempting to clean his shoes.

            “I’m bored, James,” Tony whispered.

            The light turned green, and they hurried across the street. They slowed, and James stopped, turning Tony towards him. “Explain. I have done more than enough to keep you entertained at home, have I not?”

            “Of course, you have. But . . . It gets rather exhausting, being at home all the time.” Tony gently took James’ hand, running his fingers over the back of the prosthetic. “I love Apollo, I love spending time with him and I love being able to greet you when you come home, but I . . . I want to be able to help you out. With providing for us. You do so much work and . . . I do nothing. It just feels wrong.”

            James’ body tensed as he listened to Tony. His eyes narrowed a bit, as Tony rambled, “Look, I know, it’s dumb, we are capable of living off of what you make, and really, it has _nothing_ to do with not having a comfortable life style. I just—darling, please.”

            James didn’t realize until their chests brushed that he had pushed Tony up against a nearby street lamp. Lighting darted across the sky and thunder crashed, causing Tony to flinch. “It’s dangerous out here, Tony. Do you remember what those men had done to you that night you panicked and came to find me at work? Do you remember what they _would_ have done if I hadn’t stopped them?”

            A gasp escaped Tony’s throat, the man’s body shuddering as James’ fingers dug into the man’s bicep. “I-I do,” Tony murmured, “But, that was a one-time deal, nothing like that has happened again—”

            “Because _I’m_ with you, or _Apollo’s_ with you. You know, the dog that could bite your arm off if he wanted to?” They stared each other down, and Tony hunched his shoulders, lowering his gaze. Realizing just how tight James had been holding him, James released his hold and sighed, running his prosthetic down Tony’s arm. “I’m sorry, love.”

            “It’s all right,” Tony whispered, “It was a dumb idea. I don’t know what I was thinking.”

            The shorter man was vibrating beneath James’ fingers. James leaned forward, pressing their foreheads together. “Sorry,” James whispered, “You’re freezing. We need to get you home and warmed up, all right? Mrs. Hodak dropped off some cocoa powder while you were bathing Apollo, and there are some marshmallows left, I could make you a nice hot cup of hot chocolate.” He gathered Tony into his arm, nuzzling into the side of his head. Tony stared down at the ground, and gave James a weak smile.

            “That sounds good, love . . .”

 

 

            _Tailoring and seamstress needed. Payment based on commission. 9am – 5pm. No prior experience needed._

            James sighed, and gently tugged off a strip from the poster, looking down at the phone number. He glanced over his shoulder at Tony, who was smiling down at Apollo, and talking to a young couple whose child had practically _sprinted_ across the town square to touch Apollo. Tony didn’t seem to have noticed that James had headed over to the bulletin board, or noticed him at all. It gave James the prime opportunity to study his husband—to look at the bags beneath his eyes, to see how he practically _glowed_ as the young couple engaged him.

            His original reaction had been . . . well, wrong to say the least. Definitely overreactive, and _definitely_ way out of line. All Tony had asked for was to get a job, to be able to interact with society, and James had acted like . . . Well—

            James shook his head and shoved the piece of paper in his pocket, heading back over to where Tony was standing. Tony smiled at him, and shifted on his feet. James kissed his cheek and put an arm around his shoulders, before he turned towards the couple. Tony picked at the skin on the pads of his fingers, staring down at Apollo, and didn’t seem as into the conversation as he had been before.

            “Want to introduce me?” James asked softly, nudging Tony with his hip. Tony looked up at him, and God, James felt like a horrible human being. Tony looked . . . _Shit_ . . . James mentally scolded himself.

            “Oh! Yes, of course,” Tony said, turning to the couple. “Scott, Hope, meet James. James, this is Scott and Hope.” Scott grinned at him and held out a hand, which James uneasily took. He shook his hand, and was relieved when Hope just gave him a soft smile. “Oh! And this is their daughter, Cassie,” Tony continued, motioning to the little girl, who had somehow managed to get Apollo to roll over onto his back.

            “Nice to meet you all,” James gave them a nod, and his arm slid from Tony’s shoulders, to around his waist. “I hope my husband hasn’t been bothering you all?” He gently rubbed circles along Tony’s hip, and when the man did not tense, James’ heart soared.

            “Huh? No, not at all, if anything, we’ve been bothering _him_ ,” Hope replied, hitting Scott with her hip. “This one here likes to hear himself talk.”

            Scott gaped, and said, “Hey! Tony here wanted to talk, so who was I to say no? Besides, Cassie _loves_ your dog.” James glanced down at Cassie, who was giggling as Apollo gave her a long lick on the side of her head.

            “It seems Apollo likes her too,” James replied, and he felt Tony’s gaze shift towards him. “There’s not a lot of people Apollo likes. Hell, he doesn’t even like _me_ most of the time. Some kid you’ve got there.”

            Scott beamed, and the four of them began to chat, leisurely. While James was relaxed for the most part, he kept studying the family, wondering if this was some sort of trick. If they were being played . . . He glanced at Tony, and saw just how at _peace_ he seemed. That made James feel a little sick. _This better not be a trick_ , he thought to himself, _or they’ll live to regret it_.

            “—James?”

            “Hm?” he hummed, breaking out of his thoughts and turning towards Tony. He saw him looking up at him expectantly, and when he turned back to the other two, he realized the others were watching him as well. He glanced at Cassie, who was still playing with Apollo. “What? Sorry, I wasn’t paying attention.”

            “That much is obvious,” Scott teased, and James gave him a terse smile. “We were just wondering if you would like to come out and have dinner with us?”

            “Ah.”

            “—And I said that they could come over and eat, since I know how you feel about restaurants,” Tony said, bumping their hips together before looking at the others, giving them a small smile. “He thinks restaurants are robbing you of your hard-earned cash.”

            James scowled. Scott chuckled, and Hope just gave him a soft smile. “I totally understand. Scott here likes to eat out all the time. It’s amazing how much money we’ve lost to random companies.”

            “See? Told you,” James shot back at Tony, who just gave him a small smile. James turned back to the young couple, and replied, “Despite how much I agree with that notion, I . . . I think it’d be nice to go out and eat for once.”

            Tony’s body went rigid, and James just held him a little tighter. “Any place in particular you’d like to go? We really don’t know of any restaurants around here,” Scott said, shooting Hope a grin.

            “Ah, we haven’t actually . . . ate at any of the restaurants here,” Tony said, leaning his head against James’ shoulder. “Like I said, we eat at home.”

            “That settles it, then,” Scott said, as he knelt next to Cassie. “Cassie, baby, looks like you get to pick out what we eat for dinner tonight!”

            James caught the look Tony was giving the couple. He watched as his eyes softened, his body relaxed, a smile curving at the corner of his lips.

            “What?” Tony asked, when he caught him staring.

            “Nothing,” James said, as he leaned in and kissed him.

 

 

            Flopping down onto the bed, James sighed and ran a hand through his hair. The shower turned off, and he heard the curtain slid along the pole. He shifted in the bed, and scrunched his eyes shut. The piece of paper he had taken from the bulletin board was on the end table next to him, and he wondered if this was a really good idea.

            Then he thought back to dinner, and the absolute _joy_ he exuded the entire night. James could not— _and would not_ —take that kind of happiness away from him. If it hadn’t been for the fact that Cassie was ready to go to bed, James would have sat there until Tony decided it was time to go home.

            James opened his eyes as he felt Tony climb on top of him, hands splayed over his chest. James reached up to cup the side of Tony’s neck, gently stroking at his throat.

            “Thank you for tonight,” Tony whispered, leaning down and gently kissing him. “I know you probably hated every moment of that.”

            “What? No,” James replied with a snort. “I . . . I had fun tonight. I really did. Did you get their number?” Once Tony nodded, James pressed his face against his throat. “We’ll go out with them again sometime. Or invite them over for dinner. Whichever we feel is good.”

            “I don’t want you to feel like you _have_ too . . .”

            “I don’t feel like I have to do anything.” James wrapped his arm around Tony, rolling them over, pinning him down with his hips. He glanced over at the end table, and struggled for a moment to get the slip of paper. _Should have kept on the prosthetic, you idiot_ , he thought for a brief second, as he turned towards Tony. “Tonight, made me realize just how boring life could be for you. Tonight, felt so _normal_ for me, but you . . . you felt like you had to _thank_ me, and it was clear it had a strong impact on you.”

            Tony looked at him warily, shifting beneath James, running his fingers through his hair. “What are you trying to say?”

            James handed him the slip. “I found this job offering.” Tony took the slip, his eyes scanning it. “You already have some of the needed skills, and it’s on my way to work. I . . . I can drop you off, and pick you up. Make sure you get to and from there safely. The pay’s good, our day’s off will line up . . .” Tony looked up at him, and James bit down on his lower lip. “I know it’s not much—”

            He groaned as their lips were smashed together, and now it was Tony’s turn to roll them over. “I love you,” Tony whispered against his lips, nipping at his skin and licking at his throat. “I love you so God damn much. What the hell did I do to deserve such a kind man like you?”

            James’ heart jumped into his throat. He cupped Tony’s face. “Funny, because I was wondering the same thing.”

 

 

            Jogging down the familiar path, with Apollo off of the leash, James tilted his head back a bit as the warm spring air rushed past him. The winter had come and gone without much fanfare. Apollo had been a little shit due to not being able to go outside as much, but there was nothing that caused James to . . . lose it.

            James cracked his neck. They had gone out a couple of more times with Scott, Hope, and Cassie. Hell, Tony had even baby sat for the family on a few occasions. While James tolerated their presence, Tony _loved_ them, and James was willing to sacrifice his own needs to make sure Tony was happy.

            A yelp dragged him out of his thoughts, his head darting up. Apollo was nowhere to be seen, and panic gripped at his chest. Sprinting in the direction of the whimpers and yelps, his mind went through all the possible scenarios: bear traps, wolves, badgers. There were so many possibilities, and James _did not_ want to return home to Tony without Apollo.

            He skidded to a halt when he entered the clearing, stunned at the laughter. There was a group of teenage boys, and James vaguely recognized them. They were passing a bottle of whiskey back and forth, laughing as one of them stomped on Apollo. There were large gashes in the dog’s side, and the glint of the knife in the moonlight set James’ teeth on edge.

            “Step away from my dog,” he growled, and hid his surprise when the teens looked him up and down, and _laughed_.

            “What’cha gonna do old man?” the teen that had stomped on Apollo sneered at him. “Gonna kill me?”

            “I am,” James spat in return, advancing on them. He scanned them, and his lips pulled back into a snarl. Yeah, there was five of them, and yeah, they weren’t exactly _puny_ , but the thought of _losing_ Apollo—

            Said dog whimpered, and James shouted, launching himself at the group, nailing the sneering teen in the jaw. James grunted as he was knocked to the ground, and he blacked out. He wasn’t quite sure what happened, what _was_ happening, if he was even _winning_ —

            “Shit!” Well, that voice was new. James wasn’t even quite sure if he recognized it. One of the kids was yanked off of him, and James glanced at the newcomers. He vaguely recognized them, but now wasn’t the time to worry about that. He turned, beating one of the teens across the head, before turning and slamming another one into the ground.

            It was the kids’ turn to scream, “ _Shit_!” as they scrambled up, looking at James and the two newcomers with wide eyes. James went to lunge at them, but one of the newcomers grabbed him by the arm, holding him back. He watched through narrowed eyes as the group ran off.

            James glanced at the newcomers, and his heart jumping into his throat when he realized it was Clark and Natalia, from nearly half a year ago. “Thank you, but it was unneeded,” James said gruffly, as he turned towards Apollo, who was whimpering loudly. James’ gaze softened and he bent down, murmuring to the dog in Latvian as he gently picked him up, holding him close to his chest. “Baby . . .”

            He didn’t notice Natalia nudging Clark, who had opened his mouth to protest. “Let us help you,” Natalia said softly, moving forward. James jerked, narrowing his eyes at her. She flipped her palms up. “Look, you’re going to need more than one pair of hands. I believe you’re entirely capable, but if this was _my_ dog, I would like to have someone else there, someone else who wasn’t emotionally invested.”

            James’ back straightened, and he tensed when he heard Apollo _whine_. He pursed his lips into a thin line, and jerked his head. “Follow me, by all means.” Clark’s eyebrows furrowed, but he said nothing as he followed James and Natalia back down the path. James gently shushed Apollo whenever he was jostled too much, his heart thumping loudly in his ears.

            The walk home felt like it took entirely too long. When they entered the yard, he shouted, “Tony!” and was relieved when he saw the bedroom lights flicker on. The back-porch door opened, and Tony’s eyes went wide, jaw dropping a bit. As James brushed past him, he noticed the man was shaking.

            James entered the living room, kicking the coffee table to the side and setting Apollo down, shushing the dog. Tony looked at Natalia and Clark, shifting on his feet. “They’re good, Tony,” James murmured, “Go get the first aid kit, will you?”

            Natalia moved towards him, kneeling down and pushing him out of the way. James just pursed his lips, and moved aside, putting Apollo’s head in his lap. He watched Natalia as she worked, cleaning up the wounds and stitching up the large gashes once Tony returned with the first aid kit.

            He stroked Apollo’s head, his gaze traveling from Natalia to Clark, who was looking around the house. He couldn’t tell what Clark was _looking_ for, and he tore his gaze away when Tony stumbled out, “W-would you like something to drink, sir? You look like you could use some water.”

            Clark’s gaze turned to Tony, and he nodded. “Thanks. That sounds great, actually.” James watched as the two of them disappeared into the kitchen, and he returned his focus on Apollo, leaning down and kissing the dog’s cheek, continuing to stroke through the dog’s long fur.

            “Things are deeper than they appear,” Natalia murmured, dragging James’ gaze to her. “I am not sure how much blood he’s lost, we’ll need to stabilize his leg, and see if there’s anything else broken . . .”

            “Do what you have too,” James said, swallowing harshly. Natalia just nodded, and James remained seated, watching her and aiding her whenever he needed to. Tony and Clark flitted from the kitchen to the room, occasionally aiding them whenever they needed more than two pairs of hands.

            It was late by the time Natalia was done with her administrations. While they had no painkillers that they were able to give Apollo, they tried to make him as comfortable as possible. James was laying on the floor next to him, gently stroking his sides, shushing him.

            Natalia sat back on her heels, staring down at her blood-stained hands. Clark and Tony entered the room, Tony’s breath hitching at the sight. Clark murmured, “How did it go?”

            “If he makes it through the night, he’ll make it,” Natalia murmured. “I suggest shifts being taken, to make sure there’s always someone to deal with whatever is thrown—”

            “You don’t have to stay,” James interrupted, “You’ve done enough.”

            Natalia and Clark glanced at him. James sat up, and Tony fiddled with his ends of his jacket. “Tony and I can handle it from here—”

            Tony shook his head. “James.” His voice was low, barely above a whisper. Tony knelt behind James, wrapping his arms around his shoulders, gently bringing their chests close together. James looked at Tony, the _fear_ on the man’s face nearly palpable. James sighed, leaning back against Tony, and gently grabbing his wrist. “I don’t know how to thank the two of you, for saving both Apollo and my husband.”

            “A place to sleep and some food would be more than enough.” Natalia shot Clark a look, but before she could do anything, Tony was righting himself and nodding.

            “We’ll be happy to provide that, won’t we, honey?” Tony glanced at James, beaming when his husband only let out a small grunt. “There’s a small guest room down the hallway that you can stay in. It’s not much, but it’ll do.”

            “We’ll need to take turns staying watch,” James murmured, rubbing at his forehead. “I’ll take the first turn.”

            “You will _not_ ,” Tony exclaimed, grabbing James by the ear and dragging him to his feet. Clark barked out a laugh, and then hid it with his hand. Natalia’s jaw dropped a little bit, and she couldn’t help but cover her mouth as well. “You have been up all night, if you’re going to watch over Apollo, you need to be wide awake.”

            James and Tony began to argue, James grumbling something about how he was going to be fine, and Tony shouting about how he was _not_ gonna be all right. “If it makes you two stop arguing,” Clark said with a laugh, “I’ll take first watch, then Natalia can take second. Listen to your husband, James.”

            “If anything happens—”

            “We’ll wake you up. Promise.” Clark gave him a nod.

            James narrowed his eyes, but Tony was already dragging him upstairs, telling the other two where they could find food and the guest room, thanking them profusely for their help. James didn’t say anything until they got back in the bedroom, James grabbing Tony by the shoulders. “Do you realize what you’ve just done?”

            Tony blinked at him. “Uh . . . let people who we kind of owe our dog’s life to stay the night?” Tony got undressed, seemingly unperturbed. He crawled into bed, tucking his face against the pillows.

            “You’re trusting _strangers_ to be in our house, and not murder us, or steal from us?” James bit down on his lip, attempting not to snarl in rage, or throttle Tony. _You had been doing so well_ , he thought, _don’t ruin this._

            Tony chewed on his bottom lip, watching James through half-lidded eyes as the man got ready for bed. “They don’t seem all that bad. Why would they help us with this only to harm us? It doesn’t make sense, love.”

            James shifted on his feet and glanced towards the door, before he crawled into bed. Tony tucked himself neatly into James’ side, rubbing his face against the man’s throat. “Look—”

            “Stop worrying about it,” Tony murmured, rubbing at his eyes. “Worry about Apollo. Nobody in their right mind would do all of that only to put it to waste.”

            “You are too trusting.”

            “Nah, I think it’s the lack of sleep talking,” Tony murmured, nipping at James’ throat. “Come on, love, go t’ bed.”

            James reluctantly agreed.

 

 

            The bed was cold and empty the next morning. James ran his fingers over the cold sheets, and he buried his face in Tony’s pillow. God, his cologne clung to the pillows like its life depended on it. The sun was barely peeking over the horizon, and James, for a moment, wondered where the hell Tony would go off to so early.

            Then he heard a loud whimper from downstairs, and he shot up, running down to the staircase. He paused upon entering the living room, relieved to see Apollo awake, and attempting to eat some dog food that had been watered down. James swept the room for Tony, his shoulders relaxing upon seeing him knelt next to Natalia. “You didn’t wake anyone up last night,” James murmured, as he knelt down next to Tony and kissed his cheek. He then took over for Tony, gently holding Apollo’s mouth open so Natalia could scoop a small spoonful of mush into his mouth.

            “Nothing happened,” Natalia said. “Clark and I felt well enough to watch over him. You and Tony seemed exhausted; it didn’t seem right to bother you . . .”

            James straightened. “Where is Clark?”

            “Asleep. He was up through half of the night, and I woke up about half-way through to relieve him. He probably won’t be up for another couple hours.” Natalia studied Apollo, and sighed softly. “He’ll need a lot of rest. I suggest taking him to a vet—”

            “Don’t trust vets,” James pinched the bridge of his nose.

            Natalia frowned, and shook her head. “Well . . . Then just make sure he doesn’t move a whole lot . . .”

            James sat, stroking Apollo’s fur. He leaned down, nosing against his head, murmuring to him. Tony glanced at Natalia. “Do you and Clark have any place you need to be? I would hate to hold you two hostages here,” Tony said, glancing at the red-haired woman.

            “We’ve got all the time in the world, Tony.”

            For a moment, Apollo’s eyes were clear. There was no haziness of pain. Apollo’s head jerked up, and he snapped his jaws at Natalia. James grabbed him by the muzzle and forced his head down, shushing him as he whimpered in pain.

            “He’s never—” Tony gulped.

            “He has,” Natalia murmured, “When we first met. It’s all right, though. I think it’s just the pain.”

            James shouldn’t have believed her. He should have trusted his gut.

            Could’ve, would’ve, should’ve.

 

 

            “Did you see that they’re fixing up that old house?”

            James hummed, dragging his gaze up from Apollo, to glance at Tony. It had been little over a month since the attack, and Apollo was finally feeling good enough to want to go back out on walks. Natalia and Clark stopped by every once and a while to check up on them, and after a while, Apollo stopped growling. James knew he was growing soft—he wasn’t being as careful as he used to be. Yet again, he didn’t know _why_ he had to be so careful. Well, until he turned and looked at Tony. He remembered he had a reason.

            Tony pointed past James. “They’re fixing up that old house. We’re going to have close neighbors, now.”

            James peered at the house. Outside, a blond man and a dark-skinned man were working on the yard, clearing the debris and tearing out weeds. “Hm. Looks like it . . .”

            “Can’t wait, to be quite honest. It’d be nice, to have someone so close.” Tony paused, tilting his head back, and frowning. “Do you think they’ll like us?”

            James threw an arm around Tony’s shoulders, pulling him close and kissing the side of his head. “They’ll like you. Everyone loves you, doll.”

            Tony giggled and gently shoved him away. “Stop, you’re going to make me throw up.”

            James wiggled his eyebrows, and darted in to steal a kiss. A _totally manly_ squeal left Tony’s throat, and he jerked away. James grinned, chasing his lips until he finally managed to smush them together. Apollo let out a small huff of disdain, before nosing against James’ thigh. James turned, patting the dog on the head, before glancing at Tony. “You’re going to pay for running away from my love later tonight.”

            “We’ll see about that.”

 

 

            They kept an eye on the house next door. Every day they went to work, they would purposefully take the long route, to eye the progress. Tony seemed awed at how quickly the house was fixed—it took little over a month from the time Tony noticed to when they started noticing that people were living in it.

            James threw a stick into the distance, and Apollo took off. He wasn’t quite back to his old self, but the pup still had some energy he needed to walk off. Tony stood on the porch, wearing a beige wool sweater. His gaze was set on the house in the distance, the lights barely visible.

            “If you stare any harder, the house is gonna set on fire.” Tony jerked, glancing over at James, chewing on his bottom lip. “If you want to go introduce yourself—”

            “They’ve been here about two weeks, though. I dunno if the . . . appropriate time to introduce yourself has passed. I don’t wanna look like a fool, ya know?”

            James shrugged. “Bake them some food and take it over to ‘em. What they gonna do? Tell ya no? Just tell ‘em ya hadn’t gotten a chance to welcome them to the neighborhood.”

            Tony eyed the house. He didn’t look back at James. “You think so?”

            James shrugged. “If worse comes to worse, I will go over and punch their lights out.”

            Tony laughed, and shook his head, waving a hand at him. “Sure, you would. That’s gonna make them love us for sure.”

           

 

            Tony shifted on his feet. The house smelled of new paint, and just new _house_ in general. Thoughts of when James and him first moved into their own house came to the forefront of his mind, causing a soft smile to spread across his face. Their own house had been a work in progress, and now, it was James’ pride and joy. He sincerely hoped that these people felt the same way about their own home.

            Tony’s head jerked when the door opened, and he came face-to-face with the blond he had seen working on the house. Tony grinned at him, ignoring the surprised look on the man’s face. “Hey! Nice to meet you,” he said in Latvian, but then switched to English when he saw the man’s furrowed brow. “I came to bring you a house warming gift.” He held up the quilt, the colors a soft red, white, and blue. The blonde’s eyes went wide as he saw the gift, arms out stretched to take it. “And, ah, I brought you some food as well. Y’know . . .” He drew off, unnerved by the stare he was being given. “I, uh, I live down the road with my husband.” He vaguely gestured in the direction of his house. “Sorry we couldn’t show up sooner. I know it’s been like, three weeks, but we’ve been busy and—”

            The blond finally snapped out of it. “It’s quite all right,” the man said, reaching his hand out to take the platter of food from Tony. He placed it on top of the quilt, and smiled gently at him. “Sorry, I didn’t quite catch your name?”

            “Oh! It’s Tony.” Tony flashed the man a grin, pleased when he heard a chuckle. “Nice t’ meet you . . .?”

            “Steve.” Effortlessly, Steve held the quilt and food in one hand as he reached out to shake Tony’s hand. “It’s quite nice to meet you. How long have you lived here?”

            “Quite a while, I suppose. I’m not actually quite sure,” Tony responded with a soft chuckle. “Do you live here alone? I thought I saw someone with you . . .”

            Steve glanced over his shoulder. “I live here with my husband, Sam. He’s . . . out at the moment. Had some things to do in the city . . .” Steve continued to study Tony, and Tony studied him right back. “I would love to meet your husband. Would it be possible for the two of you to join us for dinner tonight?”

            Tony blinked at him, chewing on his lip. “I don’t want to intrude—”

            Steve shook his head. _God, this man was handsome_ , Tony thought. It was nearly sinful. “No, honestly, it would be great. We haven’t had any visitors since we moved, and it’d be nice to get a feel of what the country has to offer . . . and if I’m being quite honest, I don’t want to ruin this nice meal you’ve prepared.”

            “There’s no way for you to _ruin_ it . . . just—” Tony began to ramble about the instructions for cooking it, and for some things that Steve could add onto the top of the dish in case he thought it was too bland. Tony drew off when he realized just how long he had been talking, and smiled sheepishly at Steve. “Ah . . . never mind. We would love to come over for dinner.”

            “Great. I’ll set the table for the two of you.” The smile Steve gave him was sweet, and Tony felt his face heat up.

            “Sounds great. Sorry if ya don’t like the quilt colors, I kind of just, went with whatever.” He waved an arm and flashed Steve his sweetest smile, before he turned and left, not noticing Steve slumping against the door jam.

 

 

            James tugged at his collar, grunting a bit. “Do I really got to dress like this?” He didn’t mind the button up dress shirt, but it seemed a little . . . unnecessary. It was only the neighbors, after all, and who cared what they looked like?

            Tony shifted. He was wearing his wool sweater again, and a nice pair of jeans. They were tight against his legs and hips, emphasizing his figure. James hadn’t seen Tony in those for a _long_ time, and considering he had caught Tony hovering over a pair of jeans with a needle in his hand earlier that day, he could only assume that he brought them out to make them look good.

            “Yes,” Tony murmured. “These people . . . well . . . they’re a different class from us. God, when you see Steve, you’ll be happy that I forced you to dress nice. I was dressed moderately when I showed up, and I was _embarrassed_.”

            “Sounds like you have a crush, love,” James said, rolling his eyes. He reached over to take Tony’s hand, gently rubbing his thumb over the back before he pressed his lips to his knuckles.

            Tony blushed. “You know the only man I’ll ever love is you.”

            “Doesn’t mean you can’t window shop.” James bumped their shoulders. “Either way, I suppose if you want to make a good impression, that’s fine with me, doll. You’re the one who’ll stay their friend, after all. Not like I’m much of a talker.”

            “Scott and Clark like you just fine. You have friends.”

            “They were forced on me against my will.”

            Tony snorted. “Either way, they’re your friends. You can talk to them, count on them for stuff, basic shit. If you just allowed other people in, I could see you having a lot more friends. More than me, even.” He gripped James hand tightly, and gave him a wry smile. James cocked his head a little bit at his husband.

            “That’s not true. You light up every room. People are lucky to be your friend.” They stepped onto the porch, and James momentarily narrowed his eyes at the swarm of bugs that were beating themselves against the porch light.

            Tony looked a little awkward. “I suppose so.” He then eagerly knocked, continuing to shift on his feet.

            James opened his mouth to say something, but he slowly closed it when the door opened. His heart leapt into his throat. “Tony,” the blond man greeted, giving him a soft smile. The man turned his gaze towards James, blue eyes piercing his soul. _Steve_ , James supplied, stepping forward to take the man’s hand. God, Tony had been right . . . “You must be James.”

            “That I am. Steve, I reckon?” Tony shifted on his feet next to James, beaming at them. James glanced at his husband, a small smile quirking his lips. “Tony couldn’t stop talking about you.”

            His husband’s face went red, and Steve let out a small chuckle. “In all fairness, I couldn’t stop speaking to my own husband about Tony. The quilt he gave us was quite beautiful . . .”

            James raised an eyebrow. “Ah, so that’s where the red, white, and blue quilt went.” Steve stepped back, allowing them to enter the house. Tony and James stepped in, Tony kicking off his shoes while looking around. “It was interesting, watching the progress you made on your house. You did it rather quickly.”

            Steve opened his mouth to respond, when a shout from the kitchen interrupted, “Steve! Get them out of the entryway and into the kitchen! Don’t be rude!”

            “Sam,” Steve murmured to James, before motioning for James and Tony to follow him to the kitchen. “Anything you’d like to drink?”

            “Water would be nice,” Tony said, and James just waved Steve off. Tony looked at Sam, running his gaze over him. “If you would like, I can fix that hole in your trousers.”

            James raised an eyebrow, glancing down at Sam’s ankles, where the jeans were beginning to fringe. He dragged his gaze back up when Sam responded with, “Well, I’d quite like that, but you’re our guest, I would rather not bother—”

            He jumped and turned towards Steve, who had nudged him a bit. Steve jerked his head towards the back porch, giving James a small smile. He glanced at Tony and Sam, before he gave a brief nod, following him out back.

            They sat down on the porch, Steve handing James a water bottle despite his initial protest. James mumbled a thanks, and took a large gulp. “Your husbands got quite a lot of energy,” Steve said, staring out towards the Baltic.

            “That he does. I’m sorry that Sam has to deal with that. Don’t know if he’ll ever forgive me.” He placed the water bottle down next to him, closing his eyes as the cold Baltic air rushed over him.

            Steve let out a small chuckle. “Sam will love him. He can get just like that, especially if they find something, they have a common interest in.” Steve glanced at James. “So . . . how long have you two been together?”

            “A while, I suppose,” James responded after a momentary pause. “Don’t really know. Not really quite sure what day it is.”

            Steve arched an eyebrow, and there was a miniscule twitch of his facial features. “Ah . . . do you . . . remember how you got together?”

            James pursed his lips, tilting his head back and staring at the sky. As he sat there, he realized that, no, he had no idea how he and Tony got together. He never really thought about it . . . Not wanting to look like a jackass, he said, “Tony was selling his quilts. I needed something to keep me warm for the winter, and I bought one. We flirted pretty, ah, easy I suppose . . . I kept going back because the blanket kept getting damaged, so I’d pay for him to repair it.” He smiled a little bit. Despite this all being a lie, a part of him knew this would be something that happened to them. “He told me it’d just be easier if he lived with me, I’d get free repairs. I asked him why he didn’t live with me then, and ah . . . we went out on a date. Now we’re here.”

            The smile Steve gave him didn’t seem so genuine, but James wasn’t going to question it. “That’s cute,” he said. “I’m glad to see it’s worked out for the two of you.”

            White hot pain shot through his skull, and James rubbed at his temple. His stomach churned violently, and he took another small sip of water, trying to ease the dizziness in his skull and pain in his stomach. “Yeah. Me too.”

 

 

            _Bucky’s back arches, a scream tearing through his throat. He thrashed in the chair, as the words echoed throughout the room._

_“желаниe.” Longing._

_“Stop!” Came the distant scream. Bucky recognized that voice. Who was it? It wasn’t Steve. “Stop it, fucking Christ, don’t do this to him—”_

_Tony._

_Bucky forced his eyes open, panting as the men tried to get Tony under control. Tony was thrashing in their grasp, his eyes wide and blood trickling down his face. There were large bruises and scratches, and the swelling of Tony’s right eye sent Bucky into a rage. He began to thrash again, and he managed to get his arm out, striking one of the nearby men. He lunged from the chair, attempting to tackle the men holding Tony, but he was sent crashing to the ground._

_“Stop,” Tony begged, “Stop, please, don’t—”_

_The man who had been reading from the book let out a sigh, and snapped his fingers._ _Bucky was restrained once more, but was dragged from the chair, tied up and pinned to the ground. He continued to thrash, and it intensified when he saw them put **Tony** in the chair._

_“Enough of this,” the man said calmly, switching pages in the book once Tony was strapped down. Bucky’s heart was beating loudly in his ears. There was no way that this would work on Tony. They—they couldn’t **possibly** have—_

_Every muscle was tense in his body when he realized he wasn’t quite sure how many days had passed. How long Tony had—_

_“_ _вода_ _.” Water._

_Bucky opened his mouth, and was met with a cloth being shoved inside, before taped over. He watched as Tony’s eyes went wide, tears slowly rolling down his cheeks. Bucky met Tony’s eyes, and they held their gaze as the man continued._

_“оставление.” Abandonment._

_“Листья.” Leaves._

_“Семьдесят.” Seventy._

_Tony’s eyes slowly began to lose focus, his body slouching back against the chair. He did not break eye contact._

_“алюминий.” Aluminum._

_“Голуби.” Doves._

_Tony’s eyes fell shut. Bucky snapped out of it a bit, **screaming** Tony’s name, trying desperately to get to him—_

“Hey, hey,” Tony murmured as James woke up, panting loudly and grasping Tony tightly. They were back in their house, curled up together on the bed with Apollo at their feet. James stared up at Tony’s face, before he cupped his cheeks and kissed him hard, like it was going to be his last.

            Tony pulled away, stroking James’ cheeks. “What’s wrong?”

            “I—” James began, his shoulders slowly slumping as he realized he couldn’t remember the nightmare. “I . . . I don’t know.”

 

 

            James sat on the couch, peering out the window with Apollo at his feet. Tony glanced at him occasionally, before turning back to his quilt. James closed his eyes. The dreams had been more and more persistent, and had begun to happen to Tony as well, neither being able to remember what the dream had been about the next morning.

            “We should go over to Steve’s,” Tony murmured. “We hadn’t been in a while. I feel like it’s rude, considering we were going over there so often the last couple of months.”

            James glanced down at Apollo, running his fingers through his thick fur. “Yeah. I guess we should.”

 

 

            Tony knocked on the door, while James was busy digging his fingernails into his shoulder, tearing at the meat around his prosthetic. He kept his eyes on the ground, and only relinquished his hand so Tony could grab it. Steve opened the door, and looked a little shocked to see the two of them standing there. “Tony, James—”

            “Can we come in?” Tony murmured.

            “Don’t know if this a—”

            “Steve. Bring them in. It’s time.”

            James vaguely recognized the voice, but for once, he decided not to think about it too hard. Tony dragged him inside, and he stumbled along. Steve locked the door behind them, and that vaguely registered with James.

            He bumped into Tony when his husband abruptly stopped, and he mumbled, before he raised his head.

            He really, really wished he hadn’t.

            Scott, and Hope were there, as well as Natalia and Clark. From the way they were looking at him and Tony, he knew this wasn’t just a coincidence. There were a couple of others there too that James didn’t recognize.

            Ignoring the pain in his body, James stood up straight and put himself between Tony and the group, pulling his lips back.

            “Bucky . . .” Steve murmured, causing James’ head to snap in his direction. The name hit him right in the chest, pain shooting up through his skull. It brought back fuzzy memories, but they were quickly squashed.

            “No, shut up, you don’t get to fuckin’ talk,” Buck— _James_ —replied, his eyes sweeping the room, Tony’s fingernails digging into his shirt.

            One of the people James didn’t recognize spoke up. “Steve, don’t, you’re just going to make things worse. We need to get them back home.”

            “Actually,” Tony chirped up, interlacing his and James’ fingers together. “That sounds like a great idea.” He squeezed James’ hand, and they moved discretely backwards a bit. Their gazes swept the room, and everyone looked guilty. James didn’t want to wait around and find out _why_.

            “Tony . . .” It was Steve again. James turned, launching his fist into Steve’s face. There was shouting and panic captured the room. It was clear that the others _didn’t_ want to fight them, but they had no choice. The man that James didn’t recognize tried to drive a syringe into James’ side, but Tony was able to redirect the man’s arm, causing the syringe to plunge awkwardly into Steve’s thigh.

            “Come on!” James shouted, grabbing Tony’s wrist. They were able to escape the chaos of the living room, kicking and punching anyone who got remotely close. They burst into the backyard, James immediately turning tail and heading back towards their house.

            “No—” Tony gasped, James shooting him a look over his shoulder.

            “We have too—Apollo—fuck, we can—Shit!” An arrow whizzed over Tony’s shoulder, striking James in the back, sending him careening to the ground. Tony shouted his name, trying to help him to his feet as James stared back towards Steve’s house. Clark was notching another arrow, and James glanced at the arrow stuck in his back, his head beginning to spin.

            “Tony . . .” James said, turning to his husband. “Run. God, there’s something on the arrows—go—don’t—”

            Tony heaved James to his feet, barely missing the arrow that Clark had let fly. “No! I’m not leaving you. Come on—come on—we’ve got this—” Tony broke off with a scream, and they collapsed to the ground.

            James barely caught sight of the arrow embedded in Tony’s thigh, as the group was advancing on them. “No—” James begged, his nails digging into Tony’s biceps, holding him close, his heart thumping as they began to gently tug the two of them apart. “No—!”

            “James!” Tony shouted, his eyes drooping and head slowly lolling forward.

            “Don’t do this, no, _please_ —” James gasped as he felt a sharp prick in his side.

            “I’m sorry, Buck.”

 

 

            _“I’m sorry.”_

_Tony shook his head at him. “Don’t apologize. Don’t you dare fuckin’ do it.”_

_“Tony—”_

_“Are you giving up? Are you just gonna roll over now and expose your stomach?”_

_“Tony, be reasonable, look at what they’ve **done** to you.”_

_“Bucky, no offense, but shut up. You can’t let them get away with this again. Let them get away with making you their war machine. We have to **do** something.”_

_Bucky gently grasped Tony’s bicep. “They’re going to kill you if I don’t do anything, Tony.”_

_“Let them. Let them kill me. I don’t got much to live for, anyways.” Tony studied him, his eyebrow quirking a bit. “Don’t you have someone to live for?”_

_Bucky leaned against Tony, closing his eyes. He felt the man’s gaze on him, still. “I suppose so.”_

_“Yeah, that’s right. Steve would slap the shit out—”_

_“I wasn’t talking about Steve.”_

_Tony’s jaw dropped open a little bit, his head tilted as he studied Bucky. Bucky turned his gaze onto his lap, where blood had begun to seep through the thick fabric and was no doubt staining his thighs. “Oh.”_

_“Tony . . .”_

_The door opened, and the men entered. Bucky began to panic, and attempted to put himself between the men and Tony, but it was no use. Tony was quickly taken from his grasp, with Tony’s shouts of ‘ **Bucky**!’ ringing through his ears._

Sitting up right, sweat coating his body, James looked panickily around, murmuring, “Tony, Tony, Tony—” over and over again, searching for any sight of his husband. He could clearly remember the dream, and he practically _clung_ to it, not wanting to forget who he was, who _they_ were.

            The door opened, and James— _Bucky_ (?)—stood up, heart thumping in his chest, smiling hopefully. His face dropped when he came face to face with Steve. “Where the hell are we,” he demanded, lips curling back into a snarl. “Where the hell is Tony? What have you done? Where’s Apollo?”

            Steve raised his hands, trying to make himself look as nonthreatening as possible. It wasn’t working. “We are back in America,” he said softly, “Tony is fine, he’s just in another room, we . . . we figured it would be easier to do this one on one. We haven’t done anything, not yet at least, and as for Apollo . . .” He stepped aside, and Bucky— _James? Bucky? James?_ —heard the oh-so familiar clicking of nails against the floor. He hurried around the bed, and looked totally relieved to see Apollo. He knelt down, wrapping his arms around the dog and burying his face in his fur.

            “Hey, hey, buddy,” Bucky murmured, as Apollo began to wiggle in his grasp and licked violently at his face. “Hey . . . it’s good to see you too.” He didn’t realize there were tears into his eyes until he felt the slickness against his cheeks. Apollo licked them away, and Bucky (the name felt right to him, somehow. It felt comfortable, like entering his childhood home) whispered, “ _God_ ,” as he finally came to the realization of how much Apollo meant to him.

            “I’m . . .” Steve began, causing Bucky to eye him warily. “I’m sorry for how things went down. We . . . we were going to give you more time, be a lot gentler with it, but the others . . . They got . . . impatient.”

            Bucky snorted. “That much is obvious. You ambushed us and then injected us with some sort of drug, and look where we’re at now.” He crossed his arms and rose to his feet, Apollo sitting obediently next to him.

            “I’m sorry,” Steve apologized again, the regret in his eyes clear as day. “I really am, Bucky. This isn’t how I intended any of this to go. But it . . . you two had been gone for so long, and we were sort of nervous that you two were going to take off again.”

            Once again, Bucky snorted. “You act like us taking off would have been unfounded.”

            The smile Steve gave him was incredibly pained. “You’re right.” Steve glanced down at the floor. “How much do you remember? You’re pretty okay with me calling you Bucky, you ain’t freaking out or anything . . .”

            Bucky stared down at the floor, unable to meet Steve’s gaze. The looks the man kept giving him, it was . . . unnerving, to say the least. This man knew so much about him, and Bucky knew nothing.

            _At least, not yet_ , he reminded himself bitterly.

            “Some things,” he finally said. “Not much. I just remember Tony and I being tortured. I get to have nightmares about those. Other than that . . . there’s nothing.”

            Steve swallowed. “HYDRA . . . we thought we had gotten them all. We thought we had taken out every single HYDRA base, but clearly, we were wrong. You and Tony disappeared, and suddenly . . . suddenly Winter Soldier attacks were happening again, and Stark-like machines of mass destruction started popping up again. By the time we located where they were hiding you two, you guys were gone. Just recently we were able to locate you.”

            “That much is obvious, thanks,” Bucky replied blandly, pinching the bridge of his nose. “How long have we been gone?”

            Steve chewed on the inside of his cheek. The regret and guilt on his face intensified as he tried to make eye contact with Bucky. “Nearly three years,” he responded, his voice cracking. Bucky stilled, leaning back on his heels. “You guys were only in their custody for about a year and a half. Then . . . I suppose the rest of the time you were living in Latvia.”

            Bucky sucked on the inside of his cheeks. He stared down at his shoes, which were muddy and caked thick all the way around. “I see.” He itched at his chin, and said, “Only recently I have been having these nightmares. Even when I did, when I woke up, I couldn’t remember anything.”

            “I don’t know the logistics.” Steve ran a hand over his bottom lip, swallowing. “But from what I know, the house you two were in was rigged. Every once and a while, if you were starting to act out, or Tony was starting to get ideas, the house would either admit a gas or inject you with this . . . calming medication, basically. It’d make you more easily persuaded.”

            Bucky sat down on the cot, patting the spot next to him for Apollo to leap onto it. After a long moment of silence, Bucky murmured, “So. What are you going to do with us? Clearly HYDRA is no more.”

            Steve shifted. “We want to give you your memories back.”

            Bucky gave him a blank stare. “What makes you think I want them back?”

            Steve flinched.

            “Seriously, though. From what you’ve said, Tony and I caused a lot of harm, lots of deaths. What makes you think I would want that back? To know all of the horrible things I’ve done?” He gritted his teeth, his body shuddering as he bowed his head. “To know all of the horrible things that have happened to me? That has happened to the man I love?”

            Tension grew in the room, and he heard Steve say, “You don’t love Tony.”

            “Oh? And what makes you think I don’t?”

            “They manipulated you,” Steve murmured, “Before the two of you were captured, we were all at odds with each other. Tony . . . Tony hated you, and you hated him. Whatever feelings you have—”

            “Like you said,” Bucky stood up, locking eyes with Steve. “It’s been three years. Things change, time has changed, and since I’m _remembering_ shit, and so is Tony, and I still feel the same? It’s not whatever HYDRA did to us. My feelings are my own. All I know is that I _need_ Tony, and I _want him_. So, unless you have any of importance to say, I would like you to leave.” Apollo’s head slowly rose off of the cot, staring hard at Steve.

            Steve looked incredibly hurt. “Buck—”

            “Apollo. Uzbrukums.”

            “Bucky,” Steve begged, but Apollo was already on the floor, approaching Steve with his head low, and a loud growl escaping his throat. Steve looked at Bucky apologetically. “I’m sorry.” He turned and left, with Apollo growling and pacing in front of the door, until Bucky called the dog over. Apollo leapt onto the bed, resting his head on Bucky’s stomach, staring at the door.

            Bucky stared up at the ceiling. He really didn’t want to regain his memories. He didn’t want to have to remember the awful things he’s done; he didn’t want to know why he and Tony had hated each other.

            His heart ached. Would his opinion of his husband change if—no, _when_ —he regained his memories back? Because he didn’t want them to change. He meant what he said when he told Steve that he loved Tony—a year and a half of living with the man wouldn’t change that. Even in his nightmares, when he was dreaming of them being tortured, that love was still there. The need to protect him, the outright _fear_ and desperation in Tony’s eyes. It couldn’t be fake. It couldn’t be. Even if he had been drugged, even _if_ they had been forced to love each other, wouldn’t that start to wear off? Wouldn’t he begin to realize just how fake it was?

            “Good job,” he murmured to Apollo, trying to ignore the violent feeling in his stomach.

 

 

            _“Leave me,” Tony gasped, hands pressing down against his stomach._

_Bucky shook his head. “I’m not going to leave you. I’m not going anywhere without you.”_

_“You may not get another chance to escape—”_

_“And what good will that do? They’ll either hurt you, or kill you. Neither of those seem like a good option to me, Tony.”_

_Tony’s eyebrows furrowed together, looking at Bucky with such **desperation**. He needed Bucky to go. He needed him to leave more than anything. He couldn’t—he couldn’t keep him from Steve, he couldn’t—he **wouldn’t** —_

_“Please,” Tony coughed. “Steve needs you.”_

_“Steve can go fuck himself,” Bucky said, much to Tony’s surprise. “If he hadn’t—if he had just been reasonable—” Bucky sat down next to Tony, gently prying Tony’s fingers away, so he could get a good look at the injury. “None of this would have happened. I’m sorry, Tony.”_

_“You’re sorry?” Tony croaked. “I’m the one who tried to kill you.”_

_“I also left you for dead,” Bucky pointed out, “And I . . . I killed your parents. I’m sorry, **so** sorry, I . . .” Bucky swallowed. “You were in the right to attack both of us. I . . . I figured Steve would have told you. I don’t understand why he . . . he wouldn’t have. I’m sorry. He shouldn’t have kept it from you.”_

_Tony just continued to stare at him, dumbfounded. “So, you—you don’t hate—?”_

_“Hate you? No. I never have. Steve may hate you, but I don’t. I can’t. It wouldn’t be right.” Gently, he cleaned the wound as best as he could. He tried to ignore Tony’s gaze, not wanting to make things more awkward than he already has._

_“I . . . I don’t understand.” Tony murmured. They went silent, Bucky diligently cleaning the wound. After a while, Tony said, “I don’t hate you either.”_

_“What?”_

_“I . . . Look, I’m upset with what happened. Of course, I am. My mother didn’t deserve that.” Tony’s gaze was planted on the ceiling, tongue darting out to lick his dry lips. “But . . . when I was younger, Stark Industries made weapons. I’m sure you remember that; Howard was apart of the war effort after all. In 2008, I realized how my weapons weren’t helping people, they were **destroying**. I was a merchant of death. It’s not the weapon’s fault that people do bad things, it’s the people’s fault. That doesn’t mean we shouldn’t change the weapons or get rid of them—we absolutely should—but it’s still the people’s fault.” He flinched when Bucky’s fingers touched a more sensitive part of the wound. “I . . . I’m trying to see you that way. Because you **were** a weapon. **You** had no choice. You were the one that was turned inside out, you were the one who had no consciousness until they let you.” Tony bit his tongue. “How could I do that to you?”_

_Bucky just stared at him, his eyes slowly softening. He smiled gently at him. “Don’t worry, I understand,” he said, “I’m . . . I’m really grateful you’ve forgiven me.”_

_“Yeah, yeah . . . Once we get out of here, we’ll have much more to talk about,” Tony said, trying not squirm. “Like, how I wanna suck your dick.”_

_They froze at the same time, Tony’s face flushing with embarrassment. He had lost a shit ton of blood; would it be possible for him to blame it on that? Blame it **all** on that?_

_“Shit—” he began, eyes watering a bit, “Ah, shit, ah fuck—”_

_Bucky gently pressed his lips against Tony’s. Tony gaped at him once Bucky pulled back. “Don’t be so nervous,” Bucky said, “I’d love to talk about that when we get out.”_

_“You . . . what?”_

_“And,” Bucky sang dramatically, leaning back on his heels, “You’re done.”_

_“Bucky—”_

_“Rest up, Tony,” he replied softly, “You’re going to need your energy._

A gasp involuntarily escaped him as he sat upright in the cot, hands digging into his skin and tearing at the flesh, at the spot where he had been injured by HYDRA. He whimpered, feeling like he was being choked.

            “Tony!”

            His head whipped around, eyes landing on the man who had said ‘it was time’ back in Latvia. A shudder ran up his spine. “Get—get _away_ from me—!” Tony yelped, as the man came closer.

            The man stopped, flipping his palms up. “I’m not here to hurt you,” he said softly. “It’s . . . it’s me? Bruce?”

            “I have no idea who the _fuck_ you are,” Tony spat in return, eyes darting around the room. “Where the fuck is James? Where’s Apollo? Fuck—”

            “Calm down,” Bruce said, reaching out and placing a hand on his shoulder. Tony brushed it off, glaring at him a bit. Bruce’s lips pursed into a thin line and he leaned back on his heels. “Seriously, Tony, you need to calm down. Everything’s all right. Bucky and Apollo are safe, they’re in a different room. Bucky woke up first, and we . . . we wanted to talk to both of you, make sure you were both okay and adjusting before we let you two see each other.”

            Tony glared. “I want my husband.”

            Bruce faltered a bit. “Tony . . . he’s not—”

            Tony waved a hand, entirely bitter about the whole situation. “He is. I don’t care what you say. He’s _my husband._ What? Gonna try and convince me otherwise? Look. I’ve seen the dreams. I’ve had the nightmares. I’ve been piecing together what’s happened between me . . . me and Bucky. Have been for months now. And guess what? My opinions still haven’t changed.”

            Bruce gaped at him, taking a small step back. “You . . . _what_? Bucky said that he hasn’t been having the nightmares very long. How long have you been having them?”

            Tony’s eyebrows furrowed together. “You’re missing the _point_. The point is, I’ve been having these nightmares, I know what we went through, and I’m _still_ deciding that he’s worth it—”

            “You can’t know that for sure, you don’t have all your memories—”

            “What if I don’t want ‘em, huh? What if I don’t? What if I want to go back to Latvia and continue to live as Tony Ulmanis? What if I tell you to _fuck off_ and never bother us again?” Tony’s chest heaved; hands clenched in his trousers. “I was _happy_ , Bruce.”

            Bruce continued to stare at him, the man’s shoulders tensing before sagging. Bruce scrubbed a hand over his face, and was clearly worn out. Tony didn’t feel bad.

            “Princess Shuri will be here in a few days to remove the triggers in yours and Bucky’s head. When she does that, it’ll be inevitable. You and Bucky will slowly regain your memories . . .” Bruce bit down on the inside of his cheek. “What the two of you will want to do after that is up to you, I-I guess. But I really don’t think you should be making any brash decisions until you remember _who_ you are.”

            Tony leaned back against the bed, crossing his arms and glaring at Bruce. “I want to see my husband.”

            Bruce swallowed. He glanced towards a mirror, and Tony couldn’t help but follow his gaze. He didn’t _see_ anything in particular behind the glass, but Bruce must have. Bruce turned back to him. “Give me a few moments. You’ll . . . you’ll get your wish.”

            Tony gave Bruce a hard look, his gaze not leaving the man until he was far out of the room. Only then did Tony let himself cry.

 

 

            Apollo was forced to wear a muzzle as Steve led Bucky from his room to Tony’s. Bucky couldn’t wait to take it off, as Apollo had only been following orders.

            “It’s just for safety,” Steve had said, but Bucky couldn’t help but think that it was to motivate him not to do anything stupid.

            Steve opened Tony’s room, and Bucky was relieved to see him sitting on the bed, relatively unharmed. “Doll,” escaped his mouth as he rushed forward. Tony’s head jerked up, and breathed out, “Babe!”

            Bucky clung to Tony, burying his face in his throat and inhaling sharply. He heard the door softly close, and Bucky felt tears sting at his eyes. “Fuck,” he breathed, pulling back and cupping Tony’s face. “I thought I lost you.”

            “Y-yeah,” Tony replied, pressing their foreheads together. “I-I really fucked up, huh?”

            “We both did, I should have been more vigilant—”

            “I-I shouldn’t have pressed so hard to be social—”

            “Tony.”

            Tony sniffed and leaned forward, enveloping Bucky in a tight hug and wrapping his legs around him. He gently pushed Tony back onto the bed and climbed on top of it, holding him close and kissing his cheek.

            He heard a soft bark and he moved his legs to the side, not moving when he felt the bed dip as Apollo jumped on. Tony looked up, his eyes going wide before he relaxed, reaching out to stroke Apollo’s face. “Let’s get this off of you, bud,” Tony murmured, as he removed the muzzle. Apollo laid down, his head between Tony and Bucky’s chest. “God, I’ve missed you two so much.”

            “It’s only been a couple of hours, love,” Bucky murmured, rubbing his face against his throat. “But I’ll admit, I missed you so terribly.”

            Tony smiled a little bit, his bottom lip trembling. He clung to Bucky, murmuring, “I don’t know how we’re going to get out of this.”

            “Steve told me that once we get the triggers out and our memories back, we can decide what we’re going to do. I don’t think they’re going to keep us here forever, love.”

            “We can’t count on it. Look at what they’ve done to us, Bucky. We . . . we should . . .” Tony stared at Bucky, his eyes slowly softening. “Why are you so calm about this?”

            “I’ve seen some of the things we went through before this,” Bucky murmured. “And, you know what? I’ve realized that we’re going to get through this, Tony. We’re going to be just fine, no matter what we discover about ourselves.” He ran a hand through his husband’s greasy hair, nuzzling against his forehead. “Soon enough, we’ll be back home, going on late night walks and eating at home . . .”

            “I don’t think they’ll let us.”

            “If we gain our memories back, and we still want to go home, then what can they do? I think they were more concerned about the fact that, y’know, we have these triggers that’ll send us into a murderous rage?”

            Tony pursed his lips. “I suppose so . . .” Tony pressed his face against Bucky’s chest. “Can . . . can we stop talking about it?”

            Bucky kissed the top of his head. “That’s fine with me, doll. Are you tired?”

            “Very . . .” Bucky ran a hand down Tony’s back, feeling how _tense_ every muscle was.

            “Go to sleep, love. I’ll watch over you.”

            Tony leaned up, capturing him in a silent kiss. “I love you.”

            “Love you too, doll.”

 

 

            Tony chewed on his bottom lip, practically pressed into Bucky’s side. They were in what was—supposedly—Tony’s lab, surrounded by a shit ton of people. He recognized some of them, Steve, Sam, Bruce, Scott, Hope, as well as the two assholes Natasha and Clint, which were _apparently_ their real names. There were others, people who had been introduced to them as Thor, Princess Shuri, King T’Challa, a young boy named Peter, ‘Rhodey’, Pepper, Wanda, and this thing that called himself Vision.

            He was fucking terrified of every single one of them, each one stripping him with their eyes, looking at him with such a _knowing_ gaze, and he really, _really_ wished that he was back in Latvia.

            “Do we need to have such a big crowd?” Tony grumbled, trying to hide the tremors in his body. “I really don’t want an audience.”

            Bucky grasped his hand tightly, and he heard someone say, “We just want to make sure everything goes okay, Tones.” Ah. It was Rhodey. Supposedly, his best friend, someone he’d known since college. Tony swallowed, and just gave a small nod.

            Princess Shuri patted the cot she was standing behind. “Who would like to go first? It won’t take all that long, if I’m being completely honest.”

            Tony squeezed Bucky’s hand, leaning over to kiss the man’s cheek. “Be here when I wake up?”

            “Wouldn’t dream of leaving, doll,” Bucky murmured in return. Tony ignored the looks of near disbelief that was thrown his way, and he headed towards the cot, lying down on it uneasily.

            “You’re going to feel a pinch,” Shuri said, and Tony’s skin became covered in goosebumps. His body began to feel heavy and numb. “Ready, Mr. Stark?”

            “Just get this over with, Shuri.”

 

 

            Waking up was an awful feeling. Waking up felt like he had just run a marathon, gave it his all, and _lost_.

             He staggered to get up, nearly falling off of the cot. Strong arms grabbed him and he flinched, stomach revolting. “Easy, easy,” a familiar voice murmured in his ear. “Easy, love.”

            “Bucky . . .” he groaned, as he was sat back on the bed, forehead pressing against Bucky’s shoulder. “Jesus Christ, I feel awful.”

            “It’s a small side effect. Your mind is trying to play catch up, now. I’m sorry that I did not warn you sooner.” _That_ was Princess Shuri.

            “Oh, Shuri, how nice it is to hear your voice,” Tony said sarcastically, grabbing tightly onto the front of Bucky’s shirt. “Help me up, love.”

            Bucky visibly relaxed, smiling sweetly down at Tony and helped him right up. He leaned over, nuzzling Tony’s cheek. “Still love me, huh?”

            “Yeah,” Tony grunted, “Even after all that’s happened, I still love ya.” The big dumb grin Bucky gave him was enough to be _entirely_ endearing. “Come on, Buckaroo, let’s get ya all fixed up so we can blow this popsicle stand.”

            The small group began to dissipate, now knowing that the whole procedure would work and there wouldn’t be any . . . serious ill side effects. A couple of people remained, but Tony expected it.

            He waited, watching as Bucky got settled in, smiling down at him. God, he didn’t realize just how much this man meant to him until now.

            Once Bucky was under, did he pull away from his side a bit.

            “M-Mr. Stark?”

            Oh, he recognized that voice anywhere. He turned, smiling softly at Peter. “Hey, kiddo.”

            Peter gave him a hopeful smile, his eyes softening a bit. “You remember me? M-Mr. Rogers said he wasn’t sure if you would ever remember any of us, I-I said that sounded wrong but Princess Shuri reassured me that everything would be all right, a-and—”

            Tony gently grabbed Peter by the shoulders, pulling him into a hug. “It’s all right, Pete. I understand.”

            Peter sniffed, and Tony felt the kid’s arms wrap around him. “I-I’m really glad, sir.”

            Despite being forced to remember all the horrible things he had done in his life, Tony was very thankful that he got to have the kid back, at least.

 

 

            It took a lot longer for Bucky’s trigger words to be programmed out than Tony’s. Something about how he had them much longer, that it was going to take more time. Either way, by the time Shuri was done, Bucky was a pale, sweaty, trembling mess. When asked if he wanted to go to his own quarters, Tony fully expected him to say no, that he didn’t want to be anywhere _near_ Tony, but instead the man had croaked out, “Tony’s.”

            With the help of Cap, they managed to get Bucky back to the penthouse. Bucky collapsed onto the bed, and refused to get beneath the covers. Tony just shrugged at Cap. “You need him for anything?”

            “No.” Steve shifted on his feet. “We’d like to talk to him, before the two of you . . . before you leave, if that’s what you decide you wa”I coulnt to do. We’d like to keep in contact.”

            “Sure,” Tony shrugged once more. “Why wouldn’t I be okay with that?” Steve looked immensely guilty, and Tony waved a hand. “That was three years ago, Steve.”

            “I know, but Tony . . . I . . . I shouldn’t have—”

            “Could’ve, would’ve, should’ve. Now, get oughtta here. Lover boy and I need some rest.” Tony began to shoo Cap out of the room, despite the man’s protests. “Bye, cap!”

            Steve sighed. “Bye, Tony.”

            Turning to the bed, Tony slowly made his way across the room and laid down. Apollo was curled up at their feet, and Tony realized someone must have brought him up here. Tony reached down to pat Apollo on the back, giving him a soft smile. “Hey, bud—oh,” he said, as Bucky pulled him into a tight embrace. “I didn’t expect—Bucky?”

            He felt the front of his shirt get wet, and it scared him a little bit. Why the hell was Bucky crying? “Hey—Buckaroo—”

            “How could you have woken up, looked at me, remembered everything we said and did to one another, and _still_ say that you wanted to be with me?”

            Tony paused. “Bucky . . . You remember what happened to us, don’t you?” Now it was Tony’s turn to card his fingers through his hair. Bucky kept his face pressed against Tony’s chest. “You could have left. You could have allowed me to die. You saved me. You saved us both.”

            “But I couldn’t get us free. I couldn’t . . . I couldn’t—”

            “What you did was more than enough, Bucky,” he leaned down to kiss his forehead. “I couldn’t ask for more.”

            “Yeah, you could have.”

            “Oh, hush. Now who sounds like who?” he snorted in return. “I thought it was my job to be the overly sensitive one?”

            Bucky chuckled. “Yeah, yeah . . .” Tony leaned back, resting his head against the headboard. “So. We gon’ stay here? Or you still interested in going back to that house in Latvia?”

            “Nah.” He shrugged. “Don’t like it so much now that I know we didn’t pick it out. I don’t want to stay here though, the compound seems . . . a little too industrial.”

            Bucky gently rested his chin on Tony’s sternum. “So. Where to then?”

            “We could always go north, get a little log cabin in the middle of the woods. Build myself a small shop for when Peter comes over.”

            “How far north we taking?”

            “Driving distance. Incase of emergencies, you know?”

             Bucky let out a soft hum, closing his eyes and resting against Tony. Tony smiled softly, closing his eyes and resting his cheek against the side of Bucky’s head. He was nearly asleep when he heard. “Love ya, Tony.”

            His throat went tight. “Love ya too, Buckaroo.”

**Author's Note:**

> sorry if this was rlly bad, im rlly rusty


End file.
